Snarky Musings of a Professional Slack Ass

If you’ve spent any amount of time in front of a TV recently, then you can’t help to see one hundred and fifty nine commercials about prescription drugs. Usually, they start off with a moderately attractive person who has some medical condition that is hindering their enjoyment of every day life. Then the ad will claim to be able to fix that medical condition with their special concoction. This immediately results in the moderately attractive person’s frown turning upside down. It’s magic!

Then while you watch moderately attractive person once again enjoying life with other moderately attractive people while they frolic by a lake with a picnic basket, a slightly generic, but nonetheless annoying voice, starts talking about all the things that could go wrong while taking this magical concoction. You know, things like anal leakage, heart arrhythmia, involuntary muscle movements, cancer, coma, and/or death.

Whoa…back the truck up! I’ve got my choice between psoriasis or cancer? IBS or increased liver enzymes? Depression or death by suicide? Um, hello? I don’t know about you, but I’m imagining people in white lab coats conducting experiments and then conversing amongst themselves:

Stan: Well, Fred, we found a cure for erectile dysfunction, but it’s going to make hair grow out of your eyeballs and result in uncontrollable farting.

Fred: Excellent, Stan! That’s some fine work you’ve done there. Let’s name it Xizirqibja! Everyone will love it! We’ll be rich and sipping Mai Tais in the Virgin Islands in no time at all. Insert evil laugh.

Never mind the fact that poor dude taking Xizirqibja will never find anyone to actually have sex with him because of his hairy eyeballs and incessant flatulence. What the hell are these people thinking? And do they get a bonus for every X, Q, Z, and J they use in the drug name?

First off, I’m not putting anything into my mouth that I cannot pronounce that doesn’t follow standard grammatical procedures. Secondly, I’m not going to trade off on a non-fatal condition with another thing that is just as much as an ass pain as the thing I’m suffering from to begin with. Tell me one person who’s willing to take a pill to cure a slightly annoying, albeit unsightly, yet non-fatal, skin condition with something that might result in cancer, which can KILL YOU. Really, just name that one person and provide me with their contact information. So I can slap some common sense back into them.

Since our lawmakers aren’t doing anything to rein these dipshits in, it’s your job as the consumer to say enough with this shit. Stop buying into this crap and take a stand. Demand something better for your money. Don’t settle for some run of the mill crap while paying big bucks to live a mediocre life. The money isn’t in the cure; it’s in the keeping you alive just long enough to where you’ll need more of their special concoctions. After they give you hairy eyeballs to cure your ED, they’ll come up with something to fix hairy eyeballs. But it’ll give you incontinence, which amazingly they’ll have another pill that can fix that.

Big Pharma isn’t into cures. They’re into dollars. And while you’re dealing with your hairy eyeballs and leaky anuses, their CEO’s are in the Caribbean dining on lobster while butlers bring them fruity cocktails to sip on.

Think about that the next time you feel compelled to ask your doctor for that fad drug you saw during a commercial break while watching the Real Housewives of Beverly Hills.

If it weren’t already apparent, I am a woman. I support and encourage other women. This isn’t a competition; there is enough room for us all to be successful. I have been looking forward to International Women’s Day for over a month now. When I first heard about the strike, I was all in. I was going to call in sick and take a stand. But after some consideration, I realized that in my current work situation, I would just be screwing another woman who didn’t have the choice to stay at home.

So instead, I proudly showed up to work wearing red. I excitedly looked around at my 95% female workplace hoping to see a sea of red. I saw ONE other woman. I asked her if she wore red on purpose, to which she responded no. I was sort of crushed. But I explained to her the meaning of red today, and she was fully on board and glad that it just so happened she wore red. And that made me smile.

What doesn’t make me smile is hearing other women express that they don’t believe inequality exists. I have a hard time believing that a woman living in 2017 has never experienced a situation that would lead them to realize that women are treated differently in our society. Are they saying they’ve never experienced discrimination in the work place? They’ve never been paid less money for equal work? That they’ve never experienced sexual harassment? That they’ve never been dismissed for concerns that are important to them? They’ve never been called crazy or hysterical for reacting to a situation? That they’ve never been dissuaded from pursuing something because they “are a girl”? That they’ve never had a domestic violence case dismissed because it was just a “misunderstanding”?

Nope. Not buying it. Just because you haven’t personally experienced any of those things, does not mean that another woman hasn’t. I’ve experienced some of those things. I know women who have experienced some of those things. I see women experiencing those things every day in the course of my work. I could tell you horror stories of the situations I’ve been in that would make your head spin, much like Regan MacNeil’s head did in The Exorcist.

If you think all of these things don’t exist, let me offer an alternative view. You say you don’t believe women experience inequality because you don’t personally see it in your life? Well, following that logic, you also can’t actually see carbon monoxide, but I assure you, it exists. If you don’t believe me, hook a hose up to the exhaust pipe of your car and stick it in the passenger area. Hop in, roll up the window, and turn your engine on. While you wait, turn on some Pink Floyd. I suggest The Wall. By Track 19 (Comfortably Numb), you should be drifting off into La La Land, and I’m not talking about the musical movie that was recently released. I urge you to tell me what happens at this point. Oh wait, you won’t be able to tell me, because you’ll be dead.

Obviously, I’m not suggesting that you should go commit suicide to prove my point (legal disclaimer for the less than intelligent folk). I am simply trying to illustrate the point that just because you don’t see something happening, doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Is it going to kill you to believe a woman experiences this shit every day? Nope. All it requires is that you open your mind and show some love to someone who doesn’t have it as good as you do.

Women are not demanding you to give up something that you’ve worked hard to accomplish. We are not demanding a hand out. We are not demanding special treatment. We are simply demanding equal treatment. Is that really so hard?

For a country that touts freedom and liberty for all, we are far behind the curve when it comes to women and the issues that affect them. I know everyone in this country has a mother. Do you not want the best for the woman who gave birth to you?

Are you OK with that weirdo on the street telling your mom he wants to eat her pussy? Are you OK with your mom making 75 cents while the man working next to her makes $1.00? Are you OK with your mom’s boss telling her that she would be fuckable if not for her fat ass?

No? Then you should be supporting EVERY damn thing that supports equality for women.

Like this:

So the other day, I was texting a friend and made a funny comment, to which I wanted to add the 😂 emoji.

But due to my advanced age and poor eyesight, I hit 😘 instead. After seeing what I had done, I immediately thought “oh shit” and sent the obligatory “what I meant to say” text. Lucky for me, I have cool friends.

But the whole thing got me thinking. What if Trump were texting some really bad hombre, Putin perhaps, and he meant to send a little 😉, but instead he hit 💣.

I mean he’s consideribly older than me, so his eyesight is probably a lot worse than mine and he has those bigly hands, which would make hitting the wrong emoji even more likely. Oh shit, indeed.

Recently a bill was introduced in Utah addressing the pay gap between men and women. That’s a good thing, right? I mean why should your pay be based upon the genitalia between your legs? One would think that it should be based upon the work you do and, quite possibly, whether or not you do it well. But due to the recent political changes in the US, some jack wagon thought it would be a great idea to write a letter to the editor of his local newspaper denouncing such a move.

Mr. James Green, the Vice Chair of the Wasatch County Republican Party, actually wrote words on paper and then sent them to media outlets for publishing, that stated he thought that men should make more money because they are the primary breadwinners in society and that paying women the same amount of money as their male counterparts ruins the whole makeup of the world. As a matter of fact, it just turns the whole world topsy-turvy because it encourages more women to enter to workforce, thus lowering the available jobs for the bread-winning men to support their families.

Obviously, Mr. Green’s contact with the outside world is limited to his DVD collection of Leave it to Beaver. He later apologized for his letter and resigned from his position, but defended his words by citing the “historical reasons for pay disparity”, one of which being that women sometimes take a break from the workforce to raise children.

I have a few words for Mr. Green, and anybody who still holds the same antiquated beliefs. Yes, some women are in “traditional” positions where they decide to stay at home and raise children. Should they be penalized for that? What happens when their husbands decide to take up with the “office secretary” and leave their wife and children high and dry to fend for themselves and the former stay at home mom has to enter the workforce to support kids that the “breadwinner” refuses to support? What happens to that secretary that he impregnates out of wedlock and refuses to acknowledge the child he produced? What happens to the child of the lesbian couple who has two working females making less than their male counterparts because they don’t have a penis?

Hello, it’s 2017, kids! I don’t know about you, but I was raised with the idea that you want your kids to do better than you did. That’s a pretty high bar that I need to pass for my kids. Nobody paid for my college education. I spent 10 years paying for that bitch, mostly in jobs that only women could get, while my male counterparts made more. To this day, my male counterparts, who do equal work, and who have been on the job for a lesser amount of time than I have, and don’t have a college degree (like I do) make one penny more than I do per hour.

But I’m the one causing this mess? If Mr. Green wants to pay for my four kids to attend college at $18,000 per year (in state), I’ll gladly step aside, and sip cocktails by the pool instead of busting my ass at my government job.

If you’ve been looking at the Internet in the last few days, you might have come across some news that people are body shaming Lady Gaga over the appearance her midsection during her Super Bowl performance. These must be people who live in LA, or maybe New York, where only super skinny women with six-pack abs exist. For the first time in, oh forever, I actually watched the Super Bowl. In the past I’ve not been much of a Gaga fan, but after seeing that performance, I have to say she’s converted me.

Regardless of what she looks like, Lady Gaga has proven herself to be amazingly talented. Girl has mad pipes. She’s a gifted songwriter. She’s extremely entertaining and exceptionally smart. She has to be physically fit to put on a performance of that nature. Hell, I can’t even walk up two flights of steps and hold a conversation without becoming breathless. And everyone was so surprised that she didn’t make some political statement. Are you sure about that? Maybe they weren’t in your face, Madonna-like, I want to blow up the White House statements, but they were there, formed in an intelligent, thoughtful, subtle way. I guess everyone was too hung up on that belly to realize it. And there’s where the shame should be – on the people too blind to look past a woman’s physical attributes and recognize her ability and talent.

If you are one of the Belly Watchers, then I hope your glass house is in order and ready for a big ol’ stone to come crashing through one of your walls. Women are not pretty little playthings for you to enjoy looking at. We come in all shapes and sizes, just like men. Some of us are extremely intelligent and talented, just like men. Some of us are even huge assholes, just like men.

I just wrote a blog on the things I’d like to see disappear in the New Year. Shaming was Number 4. Here we are, a month and a half into 2017, and Lady Gaga’s belly is Internet fodder for people who have nothing better to do with their lives. Are you kidding me? I’ve had 4 kids, 2 of which I birthed at the same time. My stomach wouldn’t look as good as Gaga’s if I had three rounds of liposuction, a tummy tuck, and only ate iceberg lettuce from now until the day I died (probably of malnutrition).

PLEASE, for the love of all humankind, stop this behavior. We MUST stop basing our opinions of all people, but especially women, solely on their appearances. I’m not saying you can’t have a negative opinion about someone, but for Pete’s sake, base your opinion on something substantive that makes a difference and works towards the betterment of our society.

That woman, with a belly roll or two (which Gaga does not have), might actually be an amazing person who turns your world upside down and introduces you a new way of thinking that will change your life for the better. But you won’t know that if you’re only focused on her midsection.

Like this:

It’s not an executive order YET, but we know Trump is pro-pussy grabbing, right?

Surely you’ve heard someone tell another person not to “be a pussy”? That saying just irks the living hell out of me. Basically, when you say that, you’re saying that being a woman is a bad thing. That being a woman is akin to being weak.

If you’re saying such a thing, then you don’t know the women I know. I’ve been around for almost half a century and let me tell you, I’ve had the pleasure of knowing some strong ass women. I have also come in contact with some weak ass men. And I really resent hearing someone use that generalization which degrades women as a whole.

I personally have been so sick, to the point of being on the toilet with the shits while holding a trash basket to puke in at the same time, while trying to get two children off to school, and then taking care of two other toddler children for an entire day on my own. And I know I’m not the only woman in this world who has done that very exact thing. I know that happens every day, 100-fold, in this world. Yet somehow being a “pussy” is a bad thing?

Let’s talk about the things the “pussy” does.

It gives birth to human beings. Have you witnessed that? I’ve done it 3 times. And that last time, I pushed two babies out at the same time. If you’ve ever had the privilege of witnessing that, it’s not a weak thing. I cannot even imagine another thing a human being can do that is more amazing than that. Some of us even do it without drugs, which I can’t even fathom. I thought I was a bad ass and I had the epidural all three times. And let me tell you, after you’ve pushed one human being out of your nether regions and then have to endure a grown man shove his arm, up to the elbow no less, into the depths of your body to turn the second baby around from the breach position, so you can then push that baby out, while all interested parties are more interested in the Colts playoff game, you’re pretty much a super hero in my book. I’m still waiting for my Wonder Woman cape and tiara. And honestly after that, I should have some special pass that allows me to park in the front for everything from here on out.

But even when all that is not happening, every fucking month, the “pussy” is preparing for that to happen. Might not sound like a big deal, but let me tell you that preparing for the possibility of creating LIFE every month is quite the bitch. There can be unbearable cramps, heavy bleeding, severe back pain, diarrhea, and general malaise. But you know what? We are expected to report to school and work like it’s just another Tuesday.

Later in life, when the “pussy” decides it’s just tired of preparing for life every month, it does one other big fuck you. And can you blame her? Not that I’ve experienced it, but I hear things can get itchy and dry. And completely out of the blue, you can feel like Satan himself has set you on fire. Ever notice that lady you work with is not wearing a coat when it’s 17 below zero? It’s called menopause. Whatever you do, don’t say anything about it, because, she truly has the strength to rip off your arms and shove them right up your ass. Do you really want to go through a whole workday with your arms sticking out of your asshole? My guess is NO. So, shut your trap and offer her a cool beverages and chocolates and get the hell out of the way.

None of this even addresses the personal grooming we go through for our significant others. In this day and age we have to guess. Are you a 70’s kinda guy or a wannabe pedophile expecting the pre-pubescent look? Or somewhere in between that? We don’t know. Our crystal ball is in the shop. And not only are we exhausted guessing what you want, we are fucking exhausted bending into non-conforming positions to make your porn dreams come true.

You want the government to regulate all that? Then tampons, pads, pantiliners, birth control, douches, wax, razors, vitamins, and women’s health supplements should all be tax free. Our pussies need to be in tip top shape for all you white, male Republicans, right? Where’s the executive order calling for all that?

Regardless, when you call someone a pussy, you’re basically saying they are tough as shit. You’re saying that person can raise kids, keep a house in order, even when they have a stomach flu that would knock most men to their feet, and organize a PTO bake sale on top that. Perhaps, if you want to imply someone is weak and can’t handle anything beyond breathing on their own, you should use the term “dick.”

I dare someone to take the advice of our President and grab me by the pussy. That dude will walk away with one mangled appendage that used to resemble a hand.

I’m a strong believer that women need to stick together and support each other. I’m so much a believer in that philosophy that I’ve tried like the dickens to find something in my heart that could support Kellyanne Conway, despite the fact that I loathe her boss. I think we can say she’s the first woman to successfully run a presidential nominee’s campaign and that is quite an accomplishment. I want to be happy for her. I want to be able to commend her on a job well done.

But then she goes and opens her mouth on national television and starts talking about alternative facts. Some people will do anything for a paycheck and/or notoriety. I get that. I personally wouldn’t, but I know there are people who would and I try not to be judgy about it because I don’t walk in their shoes, so I don’t know what leads one to make the decisions they do.

Let’s hand it to Ms. Conway for opening up the conversation that all humans from the beginning of time have wanted to open up, but haven’t due to societal norms. She just got up on national TV and told us that lying is A-OK! Not only is it completely acceptable, it’s the new way of life! Think of the ramifications!

So you just stole some shit from the Wal-marts. Their security camera caught you doing it. I suppose if you had a good attorney, they might be able to conjure up some alternative facts about that video. Maybe the judge could look into your heart and see some mitigating factor about why you did what you did.

That’s not how the world worked pre-Trump. But now his administration just opened the gates. Thanks to Ms. Conway, instead of wrongs, we now have alternative rights. Which if you use your English, is just a double negative, meaning it’s still WRONG, but we now have a pretty new name for it that makes it seem not so bad.

So you can either be alarmed by this new information and be labeled a snowflake or you can grab opportunity by the balls and use this for your own personal benefit. On a semi-related note, I feel the need to extrapolate that while snowflakes may seem cute and delicate on the outside, if you really think about snowflakes, they are quite the little bad asses. Each one is unique, they sparkle like diamonds when the sunlight hits them, and when they decide to pile up in big bunches, they shut shit down. That doesn’t seem delicate to me at all. If I were you, I wouldn’t fuck with the snowflakes.